


To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

by Lunaruis



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is a crime reporter, Alya is a food critic, Chloé and Nathaniel are sorta together, Chloé is a gossip columnist, Chloé isn't a huge bitch, Epistolary, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Kim and Adrien went to college together, Kim is a photographer, Le Chien Kim - Freeform, Marinette and Alya are Best friends, Marinette works on the fashion page, Mentioned Kagami Tsurugi, Mentioned Lila Rossi, Mentioned Sabrina, Multi, Nathaniel is best friends with Adrien, Nathaniel is their boss, Nino and Alya are engaged, Nino is a DJ, Not Beta Read, Slice of Life, don't ask why, lots of emails, more tags to come, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 13:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18223931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaruis/pseuds/Lunaruis
Summary: Fashion columnist and single parisan girl Marinette lives in the most exciting place in the world, yet she's bored with her love-life. But things get interesting fast when the old lady next door is murdered. Marinette starts paying closer attention to her neighbors—what exactly is going on with the cute boy next door?





	To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Human Resources (human.resources@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Tardiness  
Dear Marinette Dupain-Cheng,  
This is an automated message from the Human Resources Division of the Paris Journal,  
Paris' leading newspaper. Please be aware that according to your supervisor, your workday here at the Journal begins promptly at 9AM, making you 68 minutes tardy today. This is your 37th tardy exceeding twenty minutes so far this year, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  
We in the Human Resources Division are not out to get tardy employees, as was mentioned in last week's unfairly worded employee newsletter. Tardiness is a serious and expensive issue facing employers all over the world. Employees often make light of tardiness, but routine lateness can often be a symptom of a more serious issue, such as  
·alcoholism  
·drug addiction  
·gambling addiction  
·abusive domestic partner  
·sleep disorders  
·clinical depression  
and any number of other conditions. If you are suffering from any of the above, please do not hesitate to contact your Human Resources Representative, Lila Rossi. Your Human Resources Representative will be only too happy to enroll you in the Paris Journal's Staff Assistance Program, where you will be paired with a mental health professional who will work to help you achieve your full potential.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, we here at the Paris Journal are a team. We win as a team, and lose as one, as well. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, don't you want to be on a winning team? So please do your part to see that you arrive at work on time from now on!  
Sincerely,  
The Human Resources Division  
The Paris Journal  
Please note that any future tardies may result in suspension or dismissal.

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: You are in trouble  
Mari, where were you? I saw that Lila Rossi from Human Resources skulking around  
your cubicle. I think you’re in for another one of those tardy notices. What is this, your  
50th? You better have a good excuse this time, because the boss was saying a little while ago  
that gossip columnists are a dime a dozen, and that he could get Sabrina Raincomprix over here in a  
second to replace you if he wanted to. I think he was joking. It was hard to tell because the Coke machine is broken, and he hadn't had his morning Mountain Dew yet.  
By the way, did something happen last night between you and Luka? He's been playing weird emo in his cubicle again. You know how this bugs the boss. Did you two have another fight? Are we doing lunch later or what?

Alya :-)

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Luka Couffaine (luka.couffaine@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Are you sick?  
Where are you, Mari? I thought you said you were going to come today. Are you going to be completely childish about this and pretend your sick so you don’t have to do work again?  
Want me to talk to the boss and convince him you're sick?

Luka Couffaine  
Senior Correspondent  
New York Journal

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Chloé Bourgeois (chloé.bourgeois@theparisjournal.com)

  
Subject: Luka Couffaine  
Marinette Dupain-Cheng--  
Don't get the wrong idea, I WASN'T spying on you, but a girl would have to be BLIND not to have noticed how you walked away from Luka Couffaine last night at  
Pastis. I was at the bar, having a drink with Sabrina and I looked around because I thought I heard your name, of all things--weren't you supposed to be covering the Prada show?--and then BOOM! Altoids and Maybelline all over the place.  
It was precious.  
You really have excellent aim, you know. But I highly doubt Kate Spade meant that adorable little clutch to be used as a projectile. I'm sure she'd have made the clasp stronger if she'd only known women were going to be backhanding the thing around like a volleyball.  
Seriously, I just need to know: Is it all over between you and Luka? Because I never thought you were right for each other. He was always so moody and you’re so bouncy all the time. I truly hope you realize that he’s not good for you. Too much negativity can give you stress and stress adds wrinkles. And no one wants to look like a grandmother in their early twenties, do they?  
P.S. You really should have called if you weren't going to come in today. I think you're in trouble. I saw that little troll-like person (Lila something?) from Human Resources sniffing around your desk earlier.  
Chloé XXXOOO

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: This isn't funny  
Girl, where are you? I'm really starting to get worried. Why haven't you called me, at the very least? I hope you didn't get hit by a bus, or something. But I suppose if you did, they'd call us. Assuming you had your press pass with you, that is.  
All right, I'm not really worried that you're dead. I'm really worried you're going to get fired, and I'm going to have to eat lunch with Chloé again. I was forced to go to Burger Heaven with her since you're MIA, and it nearly killed me. The woman had a salad with no dressing. Do you get where I'm coming from here? NO DRESSING.  
And then she felt compelled to comment on every single thing I put in my mouth. Do you know how many grams of fat are in that fry? A good substitute for mayonnaise, you know, Alya, is low-fat yogurt. I'd like to tell her what she can do with her low-fat yogurt.  
By the way, I think you should know that Couffaine's going around saying you're doing this because you’re sick but no one believes him.  
If you’re sick, hope you feel better. If not, you better have a really good excuse.  
Alya :-)

 

To: Boss (managingeditor@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Where the hell I was  
Since it is apparently so important to you where I was for a good chunk in the morning, here you go. This is full detailed summary of my whereabouts while I was unavoidably detained.  
Ready? Got your Mountain Dew, boss? I hear the machine down in the art department is fully operational.  
Mel's Morning:  
7:15--Alarm rings. Hit snooze button.  
7:17--Wake to sound of someone’s car alarm go off. Turn off alarm.  
7:18--Stagger to bathroom. Perform morning ablutions.  
7:38--Stagger to kitchen. Ingest nourishment in form of Croissant and Coffee.  
7:42--Neighbor's car is still going off.  
7:45--Blow dry hair.  
7:59--Check the news for weather.  
8:01--Neighbor's dog still barking.  
8:05--Attempt to find something to wear from assorted clothes crammed into studio  
apartment's single, refrigerator-sized closet.  
8:16--Give up. Pull on white rayon skirt, black rayon shirt, black slingback flats.  
8:22--Shoulder black bag. Look for keys.  
8:23--Find keys in bag. Leave apartment.  
8:24--Notice that neighbor’s copy of the Paris Chronicle (yes, boss, my  
next door neighbor subscribes to our biggest rival: don't you agree with me now  
that we really ought to do something to draw more senior readers?) is still lying  
on the floor in front of her apartment door. She is normally up at six to walk her  
dog, and takes her paper in then.  
8:25--Notice that neighbor's car is still going on. Knock on door to make sure  
everything is alright (some of us actually care about our neighbors, Boss. You wouldn't know that, of course, since stories about people who actually care for others in their community don't make for very good copy. Stories in the Journal, I've noticed, tend to gravitate towards neighbors who shoot at, not borrow cups of sugar from, one another).  
8:28--After repeated knocks, neighbor still does not come to door.  
8:30-- Try handle to neighbor’s apartment door. It is, oddly enough, unlocked.  
Let myself inside.  
8:31--Am greeted by silence.  
8:32--Find no neighbor.  
8:33-- Give up and lock door with the spare she has under her carpet.  
8:34-- Walk to parking garage and see her car going off.  
8:35-- Notice that someone is inside the car, eyes closed.  
8:37-- go to car window, after thinking it over, and knock on the window. No movement. Try and open door. Car door is unlocked.  
8:38-- Realize that neighbor is in the car. Tap neighbor and realise that she is cold. Deathly cold.  
8:39-- Scream.  
Okay, get it? The woman was DEAD in her car! What was I supposed to do, Boss? Huh? Call Lila Rossi down in Human Resources?  
No, Boss. I called 911 and explained the situation. They told me to stay where I was and someone would come by soon. So I waited. Then came some cops. And guess what the cops said, Boss? They said it looked to them as if she killed by something that she ingested. Someone must have given her something, most likely a gift basket of some sorts they said, and put poison in it. Can you believe it? Who would do that to an eighty-year-old woman? I don't know what this city is coming to, George, when little old ladies aren't even safe getting gifts sent to them. But I'm telling you, there's a story here--someone should be writing it.  
Whaddya say, Boss?  
Mari

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Boss (managingeditor@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: There's a story here  
The only story here is the one I haven't heard. And that would be the story of why, just because your neighbor got poisoned, you couldn't come into the office, or even call anyone to let them know where they were.  
Now that is a story I'd really enjoy hearing.  
-B

 

To: Boss (managingeditor@theparisjournal.com)  
From: :Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Where I was  
Boss, you are so cold-hearted. I found my neighbor dead in her car, the victim of some type of an attack, and you think all I should have been concerned about was calling my employer to explain why I was going to be late?  
Well, I'm sorry, but the thought never even crossed my mind. I mean, she’s my neighbor! I wanted to get some answers, but they wouldn’t let me! I had to sit in the police office, waiting for them to tell me something. While I was doing this, the cops were checking her home for anything suspicious. But there were none.  
Do you know what this means? It means she probably knew her attacker. She let them into her house after getting a gift basket and left them in her house while she got something from her car. She then died in her car, and the attacker fled. Even more bizarrely, there were two hundred and seventy-six dollars in cash in her purse that had been left untouched. Ditto her jewelry. This was no robbery. Boss, why don't you believe there's a story here? Something isn’t right. I'm not trying to get sympathy here. I know. I should have called. But work was not necessarily foremost in my mind at the time. But listen, now that I'm finally here what would you think about letting us write up a little something about what happened? You know, we could hit it from the Be Careful Who You Let into Your Apartment angle. The cops are still looking for someone that can take care of everything that needs to be taken care of--her nephew, I think--but when they find him, someone could interview him. She's worth six or seven million at least. Come on, George. Let’s give it a try. I’m sure we’ll get a ton of sales.  
-Mari

 

To: Human Resources (human.resources@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: My Tardiness  
Dear Human Resources,  
What can I say? You caught me. I guess my  
·alcoholism  
·drug addiction  
·gambling addiction  
·abusive domestic partner  
·sleep disorders  
·clinical depression  
and any number of other conditions have finally caused me to hit bottom. Please enroll me  
in the Staff Assistance Program right away! If you could hook me up with a shrink who looks like a he knows how to have a good time and preferably conducts his therapy session with his shirt off, I’d appreciate it.  
Because the primary condition from which I am suffering is that I'm a twenty-two-year-old woman living in this amazing city, and I cannot find a decent guy. Just one guy, who won't cheat on me, doesn't live with his mother, and isn't turning to the Arts section of the Chronicle first thing Sunday morning, if you know what I mean. Is that asking so much???? See if your Staff Assistance Program can handle that.  
-Marinette Dupain-Cheng  
Page Twelve Columnist  
Paris Journal

 

To: Luka Couffaine (luka.couffaine@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Are you sick?  
I’,m not sick. Really, Luka, I'm not overworking myself again. Or pretending to be sick. Something just happened this morning and I wasn’t able to leave for a little while. That’s all. Sorry for walking out on you yesterday. It was a childish outburst that I deeply regret.  
I’m fine, no need to worry.  
-Mari

 

To: Chloé Bourgeois (chloé.bourgeois@theparisjournal.com)

From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Luka Couffaine  
You’re right. He is too moody PLUS clingy. Thank god we were never official.  
-Mari

 

To: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Where I was  
Okay, okay, I should have called. The whole thing was just a nightmare. But that's not  
what's important. But Luka was acting totally crazy when we went out for drinks yesterday, so I walked out on him. He was going on and on how lucky he was to have me as a friend even after the whole incident. I couldn’t take it anymore! He was blabbing about how much he loved me and how grateful he was that I was still apart of his life and how good we still got along!!!! I can't believe I wasted three months of my life on him, he’s so god-damn clingy.  
Are there no decent men out there? I mean, besides Nino. I swear, Alya, your boyfriend is the last good man on earth. The last one! You hang on to him, and don't let go, because I'm telling you, it's a jungle out there.  
-Mari  
PS Can't go to lunch today, I have to go home and make sure there’s no muffins by my door.  
PPS Don't ask: It's a long story.

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: That Jerk  
Look, the guy did you a favor. I mean, be honest, girl. Did you really picture a future for  
the two of you? I mean, he still listens to cringy emo music from the 2000’s, for crying out loud. And what's with all the ‘being in a band’ bit? Who does he think he is, anyway? A world class guitar player?  
No. He's a reporter, just like the rest of us. He's not out there writing good music. So what's with that bust of Jagged Stone he keeps on top of his monitor?  
The man is a big phony, and you know it, Mari. That's why, in spite of the fact you two went out for three months, you never slept with him. Remember?  
Alya ;-)

 

To: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: That Jerk  
I never slept with him because of the hair. How was I supposed to sleep with someone who looks like their only in a band to sleep with groupies? He didn't want me enough even to change his stupid hair. What's wrong with me, Alya? Am I really not worth changing for?  
-Mari

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Cc: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL  
All right, girls, hold on to your hats. I got the information you requested, the salary increases for next year. It wasn't easy. If you tell anybody where you got this information, I will accuse you both of having gambling addictions, and you'll be yanked into the Staff Assistance Program before either of you can whistle Dixie. I’m only doing this for you two!!  
Here goes:

Name: Position: Salary:  
The Boss Chief Editor $120,000  
Nathaniel Kurtzberg Managing Editor $ 85,000  
Chloé Bourgeois Gossip Editor $ 75,000  
Luka Couffaine Chief Correspondent $ 75,000  
Alya Césaire Food Critic $ 45,000  
Marinette Dupain-Cheng Page Twelve Columnist $ 45,000  
Lila Rossi Human Resources Admin. $ 45,000

Read it and weep, girls.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg  
Managing Editor  
Paris Journal

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL  
I can't believe Lila Rossi makes as much as we do. What does SHE do? Sits around and listens to people whine all day about their dental plan. Please. I'm surprised about Chloé . I'd have thought she made more. I mean, how does she keep herself in Hermes scarves on a mere $75,000 a year? Then again, her thing with Nath is kinda gettings serious.  
Alya ;-)

 

To: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL  
Are you kidding? Chloé comes from money. Haven't you ever heard her talk about how she used to summer in Lyon? I was going to ask Luka out for an Stop-Worrying-About-Me-I-Am-Fine drink after work--NOT to get back together with him, just so he'll stop with the music already--but now that I see how much more he makes than me, I can't even bear to look at him. I KNOW I'm a better writer than he is. So what's he getting $75,000/yr, while I'm stuck at $45, doing fashion shows and the lastest trends?  
-Mari

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL  
Um, because you're good at them? Fashion shows and movie premieres, I mean.  
Nad ;-)  
PS I have to do that new Peking duck place down the street. Come with me. We'll grab lunch.

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Lila Rossi (lila.rossi@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Staff Assistance Program  
Dear Ms.Dupain-Cheng,  
You might think it amusing to make light of the Human Resources Department's Staff Assistance Program, but I can assure you that we have helped many of your co-workers through dark and difficult times. Through counseling and therapy, they have all gone on to lead meaningful, profitable lives. I find it disheartening that you would belittle a program that has done so much for so many.  
Please note that a copy of your latest email has been placed in your personnel file, and will be available to your supervisor during your next performance review.  
Lila Rossi  
Human Resources Administrator  
The Paris Journal

 

To: Lila Rossi (lila.rossi@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Staff Assistance Program  
Dear Ms. Rossi,  
What I find disheartening is the fact that I reached out to you and all the other Human Resource administrators, and instead of being given the aid I so desperately need, I was brutally rebuffed. Are you saying that my chronic status as a single woman is not worthy of assistance? Do I have to tell you how demoralizing it is to buy Lean Cuisines Fiesta Meals For One every night at the Food Emporium? What about having to order my pizza by the slice? Do you think that isn't whittling away at my self-esteem, slice by disheartening slice? And what about salad? Do you have any idea how many pounds of lettuce I have ingested in an effort to maintain my size 4 figure, so that I might entice a man? Even though it goes against every fiber of my feminist being to cater to the misogynistic more that exists in western culture that insists that attractiveness is parallel to one's waist-size? If you are trying to say that being a single woman in Paris is not a disability, then I respectfully submit that you visit a deli on a Saturday night. Who do you see crowded around the salad bar? That's right. The single girls. Face reality, Lila. It's a jungle out there. It's kill or be killed. I am merely suggesting that you, as a mental health expert, accept that truth, and move on.  
-Marinette Dupain-Cheng  
Page Twelve Columnist  
Paris Journal

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Boss (managingeditor@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Cut it out  
Stop teasing Lila Rossi down in Human Resources. You know she has everyone down there wrapped around her little finger. She’ll do something, Mari. If you have so much free time, come to me. I'll give you plenty to do. The obit guy just quit.  
B

 

To: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Nino Lahiffe (nino.lahiffe@lasduex.com)  
Subject: We Got Email  
Alya!!!! Look!!!! We got email!!!!!  
Isn't it righteous? You can write to me at nino.lahiffe@lasduex.com. Anyway, just thought I'd say hi. Now we can email each other all day long!  
What are you wearing? How come you never wear that bustier I got you to work? Do you wanna go visit the club sometime?  
Hey, by the way, my uncle's throwing us an engagement party next weekend. Nothing fancy, just out by the pool at his house. So keep Saturday free!  
Love you,  
Nino

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Another one  
Look, Nino's uncle is throwing us an engagement party (yes, another one) and I'm telling you right now, YOU HAVE GOT TO COME. Seriously, Mari, I don't think I can handle another round of Salerno's without you. You know what they're like. And this one has a pool. You know they're going to throw me in. You just know it.  
Say you'll come and keep me from being humiliated. PLEASE.  
Alya :-O

 

To: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: I can't  
I can't go. I have to wait around until my neighbor's nephew shows up to the apartment building to get stuff in order.  
-Mari

 

To: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Your aunt  
Dear Lê Chiến Kim,  
I hope you get this. You are probably not aware that the police have been trying to reach you for several days now. I am sorry to inform you that your aunt has died recently. She was been the victim of an alleged poisoning in her apartment. Please, if you get this message, call me as soon as possible on my cell phone, XXX-XXX-XXXX, or if you are unable to get to a phone, please feel free to email me. We need to discuss how you think your aunt would best like stuff handled. I know this is the last thing you need to be worried about right now, considering how busy you might be.  
I am her next door neighbor ( in apartment 15B).  
Please contact me as soon as you can.  
-Marinette Dupain-Cheng

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: The Letter  
I like it. Short but sweet. And it gets the point across.  
Alya :-)  
PS I think it's good you left out the part about all your tardies. No one in the real world cares about tardies. Just at OUR workplace does anyone keep track of how late  
we are.

 

To: Alya Césaire (alya.césaire@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: The Letter  
Yeah, but do you think he'll even get it? From what I can tell based on the people I've talked to so far, this Lê Chiến Kim seems to be taking the role of playboy artiste to brand new heights. In fact, I can't believe he's never hit the gossip page before!  
Plus it seems like he’s always on the road. The guy was in Thailand on a shoot last month, Hawaii last week, and this week, what do you know? Nobody seems to have any idea where he is. Oh, and it's no good trying his cell phone: According to his manager, he lost it scuba diving in Belize. If he even gets this message, does he sound to you like the kind of guy who'll even do anything about it? I'm a little worried.  
-Mari

 

To: Marinette Dupain-Cheng (marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
Subject: My Aunt  
Dear Ms. Dupain-Cheng,  
I am shocked. Deeply shocked and appalled to hear what has happened to my aunt. She is, as I'm sure you know, my only living relative. I cannot thank you enough for the efforts you've gone to in order to contact me and let me know about this tragedy.  
Although I am currently on assignment in Africa--perhaps you've heard of the drought here in Ethiopia? I am doing a photo shoot for the Save the Children Fund--I will begin making preparations to return to Paris at once. And thank you again, Ms. Dupain-Cheng. Everything they say about aloof and unfriendly you parisians is obviously untrue in your case. God bless you.  
Sincerely,  
Lê Chiến Kim

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
Subject: SOS  
Dude. I'm in trouble. You've got to help me out.  
I'm serious. You don't know what's at stake here: I have a chance for an extended vacation with XXXXX. Yeah, you read that right. XXXXX. The supermodel. The one who just dumped the old politician dude. The one in those ads for that new bra with the water pump. The one on the SI cover. Yeah. THAT one.  
But it's not going to work out, buddy, if you don't do me a little favor. Just one little favor. That's all I'm asking. And I know I don't have to remind you about that time I saved your you-know-what in Vegas. Remember? Spring Break, our senior year? I've never seen anybody drink as many pitchers of margaritas as you did that night. I'm telling you, man, you'd be paying alimony right now if it weren't for me. I SAVED you. And you swore to me the next day (by the pool, remember?) that if there was ever anything you could do for me, you'd do it.  
Well, today's the day. I'm calling it in. The Favor.  
Crap, they're making me put away my electronic devices for take-off. Write back, man. I gotta know if you can do this for me, or else I'm dead meat.  
Kim

 

To: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
I knew it was coming. I knew it was coming, and just now, it arrived: A dispatch from Lê Chiến Kim, demanding payback for a favor he did me our senior year in college.  
My God, that was years ago. The man has a mind like a sieve. He can't remember his own Social Security number, but this favor I owe him, he remembers. What did I ever do to deserve this?  
You remember Kim, don't you, Nath? He was my roommate senior year, the one I got my  
first apartment with when I moved to the city after college. That dive in Hell's Kitchen, where the guy got stabbed in the back the first night we were there--remember? It was in the papers the next day...I think that's what led to my deciding to become a crime reporter, as a matter of fact. God, after two months of living with Max, I almost jumped out the window. It's like the guy still thought we were in college--half of the city used to show up in our living room for Monday night football every week.  
No hard feelings when I moved out, though. He still calls me every few months to catch  
up. And now this.  
God only knows what Kim wants me to do for him. Rescue a raftful of refugee Cuban ballerinas, I suppose. Or house the Australian rugby team. Or loan him the $50,000 he owes to the Russian mob. I am seriously considering leaving the country, Nath. Do you think Nathalie would let me have the cabin for the weekend?  
Adrien

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
I hesitate to ask, of course, but as one of your best friends, I feel I have a right to know: What, precisely, did Lê Chiến Kim do for you that left you owing him this enormous debt?  
Nath  
PS Chloé says when are you coming to visit? I think she actually misses you.  
PPS No go on the cabin. You know your dad likes to use it for things.

 

To: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
Her name was Kagami. She was a showgirl. She had feathers in her hair, and a dress cut  
down there. Okay, not really. But her name was Kagami, and she was a showgirl. And apparently, I was determined to make her the first Mrs. Adrien Agreste.  
You wouldn't understand, of course, having never done anything even slightly disreputable in all of your twenty-five years, but try, Nathaniel, to put yourself in my shoes: It was Spring Break. I was twenty-one. I was in love. I'd had way too many margaritas.  
Kim dragged me out of the Wedding Chapel, sent Kagami home, took away my keys so I couldn't follow her, sobered me up, and put me to bed. I still think of her sometimes. She had jet-black hair, and had one of those ice cold personalities. She was adorable. But not worth THIS.  
Adrien  
PS Tell Chloé I miss her too and I’m only an email away.

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
Ah. It is all become clear now. I know how you are when it comes to raven-haired girls.  
And just what is THIS?  
Nath

 

To: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
From: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
Subject: SOS  
I don't even want to ask. What is it that you want me to do for you, Kim?  
And please, I'm begging you, nothing illegal in Paris, or any where else.  
Adrien

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
Subject: SOS  
Look, it'll be a piece of cake: All I want you to do is be me. Just for a week or two. Well, okay, maybe a month. Simple, right? Here's the 411:  
My aunt--you know, the filthy stinking rich one? The one who was so mean about our apartment? The neighborhood wasn't that bad.  
Anyway, my aunt apparently suffered a senior moment and let a psychopath into her place, who gave her some poison muffins, and now she's about to go six feet under. Auntie's will is arranged 80-20--80% of the twelve million my aunt is worth goes to me upon her demise, and 20% goes to various charitable organizations she sponsors. We wouldn't want there to be any sort of untimely shift in those percentiles, now would we, on account of Kimmy turning out to have been playing house with a supermodel during  
this alarming tragedy? Of course we wouldn't. Which is where you, my friend, come in:  
You're going to tell this neighbor of hers that you're me.  
That's it. Just be me, so Ms. Marinette Dupain-Cheng reports back to lawyers -- knowing her they’re the super nosy kind--that yes, her beloved nephew Kimmy did show up as soon as he heard about her little accident.  
You know I wouldn't ask you to do this if we weren't talking XXXXX here. Okay?  
XXXXX. The girl is supposedly very well versed in yoga. YOGA, Agreste. You do this for me, and your slate clean, dude. Whaddya say?  
Kim

 

To: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
From: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
Subject: SOS  
Let me see if I've got this straight:  
Your aunt was the victim of a murder, and you don't even care enough to postpone your vacation? That is cold, Lê Chiến. Really cold.  
Essentially, what you want me to do is commit fraud--a crime punishable by five to ten years in a state penitentiary--by impersonating you. Is that it?  
I think I'd rather be married to the showgirl.  
Adrien

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
Subject: SOS  
You crime reporters are all alike. Listen to me, Agreste. I'm only going to say this once: It's not fraud if you have my permission to impersonate me.  
Why do you have to make it sound so underhanded? I told you, Auntie's dead. She's never even going to know about it. If something happens and the lawyers want to make decisions, you tell me, I come back to arrange the funeral. But the lawyers haven’t even found me yet. So why postpone anything? Besides, we're talking XXXXX here.  
You see how easy things can be if you don't overanalyze them? You were always like this. I remember those multiple choice tests we'd get in Bio, you were always, It can't be A--that's too obvious. They must be trying to trick us, and so you'd choose D, when the answer was CLEARLY A.  
As long as her lawyers don't know any better, why not let me enjoy my well-earned little vacation? Placate this neighbor of hers. That's all I'm asking. Just convince the neighbor I’m there and ready for action. Except don’t do anything. I think it's a very small price to pay, considering that I kept you from making the worst mistake of your entire life. You think old dad would still be inviting you up to those soirees on the Vineyard if you had a Vegas showgirl for a wife?  
I think not. I think you owe your buddy Kimmy, but good.  
Kim

 

To: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
I’ll take care his aunt’s neighbor while he's off partying with a supermodel. I guess it could be worse. A lot worse.  
So why do I have such a bad feeling about it?  
Adrien

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
You're right. It could be worse. Are you going to do it?  
Nath

 

To: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
Why not? I mean, just convincing the neighbor that Kim is actually there....How bad can that be?  
Adrien

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
It’s not that bad. Again, there are worse things. But have you ever considered that you and Kagami might have been perfectly suited for one another? I mean, with the kind of luck you've been having with women lately, Kagami could very well have been your last chance at real happiness. Just think, if you'd followed your heart, instead of Lê Chiến Kim's head, you would have had some type of relationship.  
Nath

 

To: Nathaniel Kurtzberg (nathaniel.kurtzberg@theparisjournal.com)  
From: Adrien Agreste  
Subject: Lê Chiến Kim  
Have I mentioned lately how much I hate you?  
Adrien

 

To: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
From: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
Subject: SOS  
Okay, I'll do it.  
Adrien

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
Subject: Operation SOS  
All right. I'll let the neighbor know to expect you (I mean, me) tonight for the big key exchange. She's got my aunt's spare. It has not apparently occurred to her to wonder why Auntie never gave me a key to her place (that fire in her last apartment was not my fault. There was something wrong with the wiring).  
Remember, you're supposed to be me, so try to act like you care about the old lady. And listen, as long as you're being me, could you try to dress with a little...what's the word I'm looking for here? Oh, I know. STYLE. I know for guys like you who are born into money, the instinct is to downplay the trillions you're worth.  
And that's cool with me. I mean, I can understand this whole thing you're doing, getting a real job instead of the cushy family one your big brother offered.  
And I'm totally fine with it. If you want to pretend like you're only making forty five grand a year, that's just great. But while you're being me, could you PLEASE not dress like a grad student?  
I am begging you: No weeby anime T-shirts. And stone-washed jeans? Yeah, those are OUT, Adrien. And those deck shoes you always wear? Would something in a tassel kill you?  
And for the love of God, invest in a leather jacket. Please. I know it will mean touching some of those precious millions in that trust fund your grandfather left you, but really, something NOT from the Gap would be good.  
That's all. That's all I ask. Just try to look good when you're imitating me. I have a  
reputation to uphold, you know.  
Kim  
PS The neighbor left a number, but I lost it. Her email's marinette.dupain-cheng@theparisjournal.com

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
Subject: Operation SOS  
Christ, Lê Chiến, she works for the Paris JOURNAL????  
You didn't say that. You didn't say anything about your aunt's neighbor working for the Paris Journal. Don't you get it, Kim? She might KNOW me. I'm a journalist. So is she. Yeah, we work for rival papers, but for God's sake, the field's pretty small. What if she opens the door and it turns out we've been to the same conferences--or crime scenes? Your cover will be blown. Or do you not care?  
Adrien  
PS And how am I supposed to email her? She's going to know I'm not you when she reads my address.

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
Subject: Operation SOS  
Of course I care. And don't worry, I already checked her out. She does the fashion page. I doubt you've been running into any fashion columnists at the crime scenes you've been covering lately.  
Kim  
PS Get a second email account. My God, it's not like you don't know how.  
PPS Quit bugging me. XXXXX and I are trying to watch the sunset.

 

To: Adrien Agreste (adrien.agreste@theparischronicle.com)  
From: Lê Chiến Kim (photoguy@stopthepresses.com)  
Subject: I'm not happy  
Fashion? She's a Fashion columnist, Kim? She's going to know I'm not you for SURE because of Chloé.  
Kim? KIM???  
Adrien

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to state that I do not own this story, nor the characters. This was very heavily inspired by the book The Boy Next Door by Meg Cabot.  
> I hope this isn't too confusing to read. I hope it makes sense. This will probably be around ten chapters?? Maybe more??? I dunno. It's a work in progress.


End file.
